


Under the Weather

by dragon_with_a_teacup



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, RIORDAN Rick - Works
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chierro, He/Him Pronouns for Alex Fierro, Hurt/Comfort, Magnus loses his filter when he is sick, Near Death Experiences, Post-The Ship of the Dead (Magnus Chase), Sickfic, no major spoilers for Ship of the Dead, protective Alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 12:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20115424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_with_a_teacup/pseuds/dragon_with_a_teacup
Summary: This was it. He was dying. Again.Maybe Ragnarok was actually a plague, and he was patient zero.





	Under the Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Well, after shunning this fic for literally eight months, I've finally finished it. Hope you enjoy!

Magnus first started to wonder what was wrong with him when he and the rest of the floor nineteen crew were heading toward the elevators after dinner. Halfborn and Mallory led the pack, arm in arm, bickering about something or other (probably about who had saved whom in group combat). T.J. trailed along behind them, laughing and chipping into their conversation on occasion. However, he seemed to be constantly switching sides in the debate, simply for the sake of everyone’s amusement.

Behind those three, Alex sauntered, twirling his garrote in his fingers. Of their little squad, he’d been the last out in the battle and was still preening a bit about it.

Magnus brought up the rear, trying to pay attention to the loud debate at the front as the others were. However, that was growing more and more difficult, because his brain was pounding against his skull. He let out a slow breath, keeping his eyes down and rubbing at his temples, longing for darkness, for quiet. The sound of his friends’ voices was a cacophony; they seemed amplified and almost aggressive.

“You okay?” Alex’s voice reverberated through Magnus’ mind. He flinched but managed to open his eyes.

The child of Loki had fallen back to walk next to Magnus, a crinkle in his forehead. “You look like you just took Mjölnir to your head.”

“That… is actually a pretty decent description,” Magnus muttered as he continued to massage his temples.

“What, did Jack get super into it tonight?”

“Actually, no,” Magnus lifted the chain hanging around his neck. Jack wasn’t there. “He’s off doing whatever it is magical sentient swords do when they’re not chilling as a pendant or slaughtering my enemies for me. Probably on a date with a mace or something.”

“Hmm,” Alex’s head tilted, appraising. “So what’s up then?”

Magnus shrugged. “Probably just a side effect of fighting for my afterlife tonight. I mean, I almost made it as long as you did.”

But his head gave a particularly intense throb as he spoke, and he shut his eyes. Alex grabbed his wrist and guided him into the elevator. There, Mallory and Halfborn eschewed usual elevator etiquette and continued their conversation; Magnus did his best to block them out by studying the inside of his eyelids. All the while, Alex kept his grip on Magnus.

At last, the telltale ding sounded—sending a sharp twinge of pain through Magnus’ head once again—and the elevator doors opened. Magnus sped toward his rooms, only muttering a few words in farewell before he slammed the door shut behind him and allowed the silence of his rooms to envelop him.

He flopped onto his bed, yanked the covers up over his head, and groaned. What was wrong with him? He’d never before felt like this after a practice battle. Even the pain and fatigue that resulted from dismissing Jack back to pendant form wasn’t like this; usually he was unconscious before the pain had a chance to really set in.

So what the hell was happening?

Sleep evaded him. He tossed and turned, head pounding, ears ringing. Maybe a good night’s sleep would help…

But as time passed, and as sleep eluded him, he began to feel _ worse_, not better. His body ached, everywhere. After probably an eon of no relief, he started to shiver as well.

This was it. He was dying. Again.

Maybe Ragnarok was actually a plague, and he was patient zero.

A knock on the door hit him as a physical blow would have. He let out an involuntary groan in response. Whoever was on the other side seemed to interpret that rather pathetic sound as an invitation, though, because the door swung open.

“Maggie?”

He didn’t reply. In fact, he suspected he couldn’t, at least not coherently.

Alex’s soft footsteps approached, and then the other side of the bed dipped as he sat down. “Is your head still hurting?”

“Mmm,” was all the sound Magnus could muster. He pulled the nearest pillow close and pressed it over his head. He’d tried to smother the headache away a while ago, to no avail, but perhaps if Alex helped him…

“Hey.” He could hear Alex moving about, then a familiar click sounded. “Magnus, seriously, what’s going on?”

Reluctant, Magnus moved the pillow aside. “Don’t know.” He winced and shut his eyes tight: Alex had turned on the lamp at the bedside. “Turn that off.”

Once Magnus’ face came into view, Alex’s brows lifted with concern.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“No, like…” Alex shifted closer, tossing the pillow over his shoulder to get it out of the way. “You’re really pale. Paler than usual, I mean. But like… flushed at the same time.” He pressed his hand to Magnus’ forehead, then pulled it back. “You’re burning up, my dude.”

Magnus felt the bizarre urge to giggle. Hmm. Maybe he was worse than he thought. “Are you saying I’m hot?”

Alex frowned. “But… how are you sick? You’re an einherji. You… you aren’t alive.”

Magnus shrugged.

“Well… can’t you heal yourself? Use your Vanir voodoo, or whatever?”

“Alex,” Magnus muttered flatly, eyes still closed. “My brain is currently trying to escape from my skull. I don’t think I can do anything right now.”

“Okay,” Alex bit his lip. “Just… stay there. I’ll be back.”

He climbed back off the bed and headed out of the room, stride full of purpose. The moment he was gone, Magnus rolled over and shoved the still-lit lamp off the table onto the floor.

— — — 

“What do you mean, a curse?” Alex exclaimed, hands jabbing the air.

Hearthstone grimaced, examining Magnus, who lay before them on the bed, eyes closed. By now, a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and he seemed only half aware there were even people in his room.

Alex had been delayed far too long in finding someone to help. Odin, who should have been the obvious and convenient choice, had apparently decided to slip away from Asgard. Who knew where he had got off to? All-Father, more like Always-Gone-Father.

And there weren’t healers in Hotel Valhalla; why would there be? All the inhabitants were einherjar. The mortal Valkyries were powerful enough to care for themselves, or were close enough to mortal hospitals—the Hotel was situated just a doorway from downtown Boston, after all. Taking Magnus to one, of course, would only cause more problems, considering he wasn’t alive and all.

So Alex’s next thought had been Hearthstone, who usually could be found haunting the counter of Blitzen’s Best. Alex had raced out of the Hotel into Boston, and—there he was, right where expected. Without a word, Alex had seized him by the scarf and dragged him back to Valhalla, all the while ignoring Hearth’s flustered protests that he had to man the store because Blitz had been called away by his mother without warning.

Now, standing at the bedside, runestones scattered across the furniture and floor, Hearthstone looked perplexed and a little concerned.

“_This isn’t possible_,” he signed. “_Einherjar do not get the flu_.”

“Wait,” Alex froze. “Flu? F-L-U? That’s what he has?” His ASL was mediocre at best, and he was unsure he’d understood right.

Hearth nodded, then tapped his temple with his index finger. “_I think._”

“Do you know how to cure the flu? With your runes?” Alex pressed. He hadn’t felt this anxious since the mission to stop Naglfar’s voyage.

“_I tried._” Hearthstone’s hands were insistent, urgent. “_Nothing worked. Something strange is happening._”

He met Alex’s gaze, and they looked at each other in silence for a moment. Alex worried at his lower lip. If even Hearthstone—probably the best rune magician in all the Nine Worlds, aside from Odin himself—could do nothing, what was left to be done?

“So if it’s a curse… do we just have to wait it out? We can’t cure it?” But Alex’s mind was racing ahead, even while speaking. “What if… what if it doesn’t get better? What if this curse is unbreakable?”

Hearthstone didn’t reply for a moment, considering. Then, he lifted his hand to his forehead and flicked it away in a motion something like a cross between a wave and a reversed salute. Alex recognized that sign: “_Don’t know._”

“Well,” Alex sighed, then squared his shoulders. “Let’s change that.”

— — — 

Magnus’ eyes flew open, gasping for breath. Images seemed burned into his eyelids—nebulous figures coming for him, indistinct voices calling out to him in both fear and hate, fire rising up on all sides.

“Magnus?”

He twisted, finding his legs caught in the sheets. He kicked at them, trying to free himself. The nightmare threatened to pull him back under.

“Magnus,” a voice said. “It’s okay.”

A figure swam before his still-bleary vision. “Alex?” he croaked.

“Yeah.”

“Oh thank the gods,” he groaned. He fought with the mangled sheets a moment before he managed to push himself upright. He stretched out his hand, beckoning.

Alex knelt on the edge of the bed and took Magnus’ outstretched hand, putting his other on Magnus’ cheek. His lips pursed. “You’re still burning. And you were crying out in your sleep.”

“Sorry.” Magnus leaned forward and pressed his temple to Alex’s shoulder.

“No,” Alex scoffed. “Don’t apologize. Are you feeling more with it now?”

He nodded. “A little.” That statement was only half-true; his head throbbed and his body ached and his throat scratched with each breath.

“Well, lie back,” Alex’s hands were gentle on Magnus’ shoulders. He guided him back onto the pillow. “You need to rest.”

“You figured out what’s wrong with me?”

Alex’s mouth twisted in frustration. “Not yet. But I’ve brought in backup.”

“Who?” Magnus coughed, then winced. Gods, that hurt.

Alex handed him a cup of water. “Hearth, for one, and the rest of the squad are out tracking down some soup and remedies for you. And I texted Sam.”

“You don’t have to… make a fuss.” Please, make a fuss. This was murder.

“You’re an einherji, Magnus. You shouldn’t be able to get sick. This is kind of a big deal, and I want to figure out who’s out to get you. Well, besides me,” he added, grinning.

Magnus’ dry lips turned up in a smile. “So you guys are going to find a… magical cure?”

“Hope so.”

He sighed, feeling oddly breathless from so much speaking. He tried to take a deep breath, but that only set off another bout of harsh coughs. “You could always try a kiss. That’s what the films say works best,” he croaked when it was over.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“And if you’re contagious?”

“Come on,” Magnus forced a smile. He had a feeling his fever was making him a bit more daring than usual; he never begged for kisses from Alex normally. (Normally, Alex bestowed them at unexpected, borderline-inappropriate moments, because Alex.) “I’m an einherji, as established. I shouldn’t be sick, so how can I be contagious? Just try it. You might be the cure for all we know.”

Alex still appeared skeptical, but Magnus could see a smirk fighting its way to the surface. “I guess I would feel a little guilty letting you suffer. Only a little, though.”

Still, he leaned forward, cradled Magnus’ jaw, and brushed their lips together. Magnus wanted to lean into it, but his weakened body protested, and instead he fell back against the pillow once more. Alex sat back with a small smile.

“Feel better?”

Magnus took a moment, considering. Then, he sighed. “Not really.” Slowly, he stretched out his hand and squeezed Alex’s slender fingers again. “Maybe I need a double dose.”

Alex chuckled. “And I think you’re delirious.” Still, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together again.

This time, only a knock on the door was enough to make them break apart. With a grudging groan, Alex tugged Magnus’ hand away from his head, smoothed his hair, and hurried over to the door.

Magnus lay back. Without Alex, he felt chilly again. He yanked the covers back into some semblance of order and burrowed down, fighting shivers.

Voices drifted to him from the doorway. To distract himself from the distress he was more aware of again, he listened in.

“I really don’t think he’s up to visitors at the moment,” Alex was saying. “Particularly you, Gunderson. What does he even need that for?”

“They’re get well gifts!” Halfborn protested. “Well, get well snacks.”

“You’d be more useful helping Hearth figure out what’s going on. Besides, we don’t know what this is. Einherjar don’t get sick. He could be contagious for all we know, and I think we should keep him away from people for now.”

“What about you?” Mallory asked.

“I’ve already been in here a while. I can’t get _ more _ exposed, but you guys can. So I’ll stay here.”

“Well, at least give him these.”

“Thanks, T.J. Any of you heard from Samirah?”

“Not yet.”

Alex made a frustrated noise, and a thump told Magnus he had banged his fist on the doorframe. “Okay. I’ll be here. You guys should help Hearth until Sam shows up. Hopefully, she’ll know what to do.”

“Shouldn’t we at least tell Hunding or—”

“No,” Alex’s voice came out sharp. “Like I said, we don’t know what this is. I don’t think having panicking hotel staff meddling is going to help matters. Let’s hold off telling them until we know more.”

A pause, while Magnus supposed their hallmates were considering. “I think that’s a stupid idea,” Mallory said. “What if Helgi knows something about this?”

“I don’t know that he does. It’s never happened in all the time I’ve been here,” Halfborn put in.

“Oh, and you’re the expert?” she shot back. “Helgi and Hunding bow to your sum total of Valhalla knowledge, is that it?”

“I’m just—”

“Okay,” Alex cut off what was sure to be another heated debate. “Well, thanks for this. I’ll see you in a bit, or at least Sam will.”

Magnus heard the click as he shut the door, then footsteps.

“Are you up for eating anything?”

“Hmm?” Magnus had let his eyes slide closed as he had listened to his hallmates’ conversation. He rolled to the side and groaned. “I don’t know.”

Alex stood in the doorway of the bedroom. “Well, they brought you some soup, mead, and falafel. I guess Amir’s been told about the situation, ’cause there’s a note here that says get well from him.”

He turned his head a bit, and at that moment the scent of the food and drink drifted toward him. In response, his stomach gave a horrible lurch.

“No, no, no,” he moaned, clutching at his head. “No food.”

Alex retreated immediately, and Magnus heard the refrigerator door open and close. He must have started to drift off because he jumped when he felt Alex sit on the edge of the bed again.

“You must _ really _ be sick if you’re refusing falafel.” His hand came to rest on Magnus’ shoulder. “Go back to sleep. I’ll figure this out.”

Magnus sighed and nodded. In what seemed like no time at all, he was asleep again.

— — — 

Alex stayed by the side of the bed for a few minutes, watching as Magnus slept, shivers jolting through him so often he seemed to be vibrating. That was never supposed to happen, him being the son of Frey and all. He was supposed to be all warm and summery and… well, not this.

Tentative, not sure if he wanted to know the answer, Alex laid his hand across Magnus’ forehead, as light a touch as he could manage so he didn’t disturb his Freyson. Still hot, far too hot. In response to the contact, Magnus let out a soft sound, a combination of a whimper and a moan, and something in Alex’s chest tightened.

His lips had been hot too, and a bit dry and chapped, clear signs of his fever. Even as he had enjoyed the kiss, the feeling of Magnus’ skin had worried Alex. Not to mention the unusually needy nature of Magnus’ words. Alex had never seen him like this, and while under other circumstances might have appreciated the demanding behavior, even seen it as endearing, right now he just felt scared.

A few minutes later, as Alex was dabbing a cool, damp cloth on Magnus’ face, his phone rang. He scrambled to pull it out of his pocket and answer it quickly so the sound didn’t wake Magnus.

“What?” he snapped, shooting an anxious glance at the trembling, prone figure on the bed.

“Geez, hi.”

“Oh.” Alex swallowed. “Hi Sam, sorry. Guess I’m not in the best mood.”

“Are you still holed up with Magnus?” Samirah asked.

“Yeah, but he’s asleep. Hang on.” Alex stood and ducked into the main room of Magnus’ suite, keeping the door to the bedroom ajar so he could hear if Magnus called out. “Okay. Are you at the Hotel?”

“Yeah, got here a few minutes ago. I’m in the floor nineteen lounge now. Come on out.”

Alex hesitated. Leaving Magnus alone sounded like a bad plan. An einherji falling ill was unprecedented, and he feared letting the patient fight it on its own. And the fact the patient was Magnus…

“Sam, I really don’t think—”

“What, are you afraid he’s contagious? That’s what Halfborn told me you said.”

Alex thought about reiterating that here, but this was Samirah. Surely, of all people, his sister wouldn’t mock him for his real worry.

“I don’t really know about that, and it is probably better safe than sorry, but… Sam, what if he gets worse? He had an awful nightmare earlier, and he’s still really weak and burning up. He doesn’t want to eat, could barely drink any water, and he’s cold and hot all at once. Hearthstone didn’t know how to help him, and it’s not like mortal medicine will do him any good—”

“Hey,” Samirah interrupted Alex’s frantic rambling. “It’s only been a few hours. We’re going to figure this out.”

“You don’t know that—”

“Alex.” Her stern tone snapped his mouth shut. “Listen. Hearth has a hunch. Here, you need to talk to him, but since you’ve quarantined yourself in there…”

She switched over to a video chat, and Alex watched as the view blurred and fumbled around as the phone was moved from Samirah’s face to Hearthstone’s.

“Hey,” Alex held the phone out at arm’s length, so Hearthstone could both read his lips and see his signing. “What’s up?”

“_It's__ someone in Valhalla who’s doing this_,” Hearthstone said, his hands moving so quickly Alex could barely follow. “_No one else could have gotten so close to Magnus. He hasn’t left the Hotel in almost a week_.”

“But who here could have done this? You said it was a curse. No one else here can do magic, right?”

Hearthstone didn’t reply right away, and Alex felt his heart drop to somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach. “Right?” he repeated, nearly dropping the phone in his attempt to make the sign as emphatic as possible.

“_There is one other_,” Hearthstone replied reluctantly. “_But I can’t believe—_”

“Who? Odin? I thought he wasn’t here.”

Hearthstone shook his head. “_No, not Odin_.”

“Who, then?” Alex wished he could convey the rising volume of his voice through his hands, but he figured Hearthstone was adept enough at reading expressions to see how desperate Alex was.

The video suddenly shook, and Hearthstone’s face disappeared, only to be replaced by Samirah’s again. “Come on out here, Alex. I think I know who Hearth means, and if he’s right, you don’t have to worry about quarantining yourself anymore.”

“But what if Magnus—”

Samirah shook her head. “He’ll be okay. This shouldn’t take long.” She glanced to the side, toward Hearthstone, as if for confirmation. “We don’t even have to leave the Hotel. And I’m sure T.J., Halfborn, and Mallory will take care of him. I mean, I’m sure they’ll also want to come help us, but… this could be a delicate situation. I’d rather not have too large a crowd.”

“Okay,” Alex gave in, biting his lip. Samirah’s tone worried him; he wondered who this person could be. “I’ll be right there.”

He hung up, then slipped back into Magnus’ bedroom. A touch to Magnus’ forehead told the child of Loki that his fever hadn’t lessened. If anything, his skin felt even hotter than before and was tacky with sweat. His forehead was creased, and he tossed and turned.

And since no one was around to see, Alex figured it would do no harm if he brushed back the damp locks of hair across Magnus’ forehead and pressed a quick kiss there.

“Hang in there, Magnus. Please.”

— — — 

Alex kept so close on Samirah’s heels that more than once, he almost tripped her. Not that he was anxious. The third time he made her stumble, she shot a fierce glare over her shoulder.

“I swear, Alex, if you do that one more time—”

“Sorry!” Alex held up his hands and backed off. “Where is this other magician supposed to be?”

“Most likely in the Valkyrie lounge.”

“The what?” Alex blinked. He didn’t know such a place existed. Then again, Valhalla was a seemingly unending maze of halls and rooms and doors that never opened to the same place. “Since when do we have a lounge for the Valkyries?”

“Well, since forever, I think. Those of us who are also einherjar sometimes like a place they can go on their own,” Samirah shrugged. “It’s where we meet sometimes to discuss things. I avoided it like the plague after bringing Magnus here…” she trailed off. Alex flinched at the word “plague.”

“Anyway. It’s just up ahead.”

She led them around yet another corner, then slowed before a nondescript wooden door. Samirah knocked, and Alex strained to hear a response from within.

Nothing. He glanced at his sister, who shrugged and pushed the door open.

There were no lights within, and the only illumination came from the floor-to-ceiling windows, through which some of the branches of Yggdrasil, bathed in the evening light, could be seen.

“Hey, anyone here?” Samirah called. She paused, holding out her arm to stop the others. Alex peered over her shoulder and then tensed.

“Sam,” he breathed, nodding at a seat near the window.

A figure rose and faced them. It was a girl, about Samirah’s height, but she didn’t look particularly intimidating, especially considering Samirah and Hearthstone’s theory that she was the one who had somehow found a way to infect Magnus with some strange strain of einherjarian flu. Alex thought he had seen her around the Hotel several times but had never spoken with her.

“Hey,” Samirah said, her voice laced with caution. “Mind if I come in?”

The girl remained silent, regarding the group. Alex could feel Hearthstone shifting from one foot to the other. Alex laid a placating hand on his arm. “Wait,” he signed. They had to trust Samirah here.

“_T__hey _ aren’t Valkyries,” the girl said. Her voice was harsher and deeper than Alex had expected.

“I know, but you know them.” Samirah’s tone was still deliberate. “We just had a question for you, Eir. You’re the best healer I know.”

“What about your special einherji?” she sneered. “That Vanir son? Can’t he help you?” Then, Eir stepped closer. “Oh, that’s right. He’s feeling a bit under the weather, isn’t he?”

That was all the confirmation Alex needed. No one else knew about Magnus’ illness except for Samirah, Hearthstone, and the floor nineteen hallmates. Without considering the danger to himself, he moved forward and pushed Eir against the window. “_You _did this to him,” he hissed.

“Alex,” Samirah warned, even as she and Hearthstone moved farther into the room. The latter had the presence of mind to close the door to keep anyone from interrupting, and so they were plunged into near-darkness. Alex ignored all that, in favor of glaring at Eir.

“Cure him,” he commanded.

Eir laughed, a horrible, unnatural sound. “Cure him? But isn’t it impossible that he is even ill? How can you expect me to cure the impossible?”

Hearthstone moved forward, pulling on Alex’s shoulder until, grudgingly, he moved back. The elf faced Eir, a frown on his angular face.

“_Why would you do this? _ ” he asked. “_Magnus has done nothing to you_.”

“Of course he has,” she spat. “He refused to come with me.”

Alex and Hearthstone exchanged baffled glances, but Samirah was the one to ask.

“What do you mean? Go with you where?”

“To see his mother.” Eir’s face twisted into a dreadful grin. “To my home.”

“Eir…” Alex had no idea what was going on. He wanted to have something to fight, some obvious foe, not this Valkyrie who spouted nonsense.

But Hearthstone seemed to understand her. He exhaled sharply, and pulled Alex backward, gesturing Samirah to back up as well. Then, he pulled out a runestone and slammed it upon the ground.

Eir, seeing what Hearth was doing, threw herself forward. But she moved too late, and tendrils of ice sprang up from nothing and enveloped her. She shrieked and fought, kicked and struggled, but to no avail; within seconds, she was trapped. Only her face was free of the ice, her expression furious.

“Eir,” Samirah implored. “This isn’t you.”

“What did she mean,” Alex interrupted, “about Magnus going to her? What’s going on? Is she… possessed, or something?”

Samirah glanced over and nodded.

“Well, at least someone here is moderately intelligent,” Eir spat. Or rather, whoever it was using Eir’s body spat. “Bravo, Samirah. Or perhaps I should call you, sister?”

“Don’t,” Samirah growled. And at that, Alex at last understood.

“Hel,” he breathed, staring at Eir. “You’re Hel.”

She grinned, though it was more like a snarl. “He finally catches up!”

“But why…?”

“Magnus met Hel once,” Samirah explained under her breath. “Not long after he came to the Hotel. She wanted him to join her in Helheim instead, tried to manipulate him into it by saying he could see his mother there. But he knew there was more to her offer than there appeared to be, that Loki was behind it, and with Fenris trying to break free at the time…” She shrugged. “He refused her. Apparently, she’s never forgiven that slight.”

Hel glared. “He could have had a much better afterlife than this place.” She surveyed the room with disdain. “He would have been safer, been with his mother. But instead, he chooses to stay, and disgraces and humiliates my—our—parent.”

“So, what, you’re trying to kill him?” Alex clenched his fists. “That doesn’t guarantee he’ll end up in Helheim. He could just go into the Gap…” His throat closed off, unbidden, at that thought. Magnus, gone forever, dissolved into nothing.

Hel didn’t respond beyond a fierce look, and Alex understood. She no longer wanted Magnus in her realm, for her father’s reasons or otherwise; she only wanted revenge for his refusal. So she’d taken over Eir’s body, twisted her powers of medicine, and poisoned Magnus.

Which meant he really was dying.

“We have to break the spell,” Alex whispered. “If we can get Eir back to herself—”

“Yeah,” Samirah nodded.

“How?” Alex turned, with a hard glare, back to Hel. “Should I just slap her?”

But before Samirah could respond—likely in the negative, the spoilsport—Hearthstone moved. He held a rune, which he pressed to the ice. Hel, upon seeing what he was doing, shrieked again. But it was too late; the ice began to melt, cracking and sliding down into a puddle at their feet. Hel flailed, fighting to break free before the spell took full effect. Alex pulled Samirah out of the way, just as a warm wave washed over the room, and a final shudder wracked Eir’s body. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and an instant later, she collapsed into Hearthstone’s arms and went still.

Alex leaned forward, as did Samirah. Hearthstone glanced up at them, then held up a finger. “_Wait_.”

They waited in silence, for what felt like a thousand years. Alex’s heart pounded in his ears. What if the rune didn’t work? What if Hel’s possession of Eir had killed the Valkyrie? What if there was now no way to cure Magnus?

Eir coughed, then her eyelids fluttered open. “What…?” Her voice was different, less harsh and more melodic now. “Samirah? What happened?”

“Thank Allah,” Samirah breathed, a relieved grin on her face. She reached out and helped Eir to her feet, the two girls putting their heads together as Samirah explained to her disoriented fellow Valkyrie.

Hearthstone smiled at Alex. “What rune was that second one?” Alex asked.

He held it out. To his surprise, Alex recognized it. Dagaz, the rune that marked the keys to the doors of Valhalla.

“Really? I thought it just opened doors.”

“_I__t means new beginnings, but also transformation_,” Hearth explained, making hooks with his index fingers, touching his wrists together in an X, then reversing them. Then, his smile grew a bit sheepish. “_I thought it might reverse the spell Hel had put on Eir and turn her back into who she really is. But… I wasn’t sure it would work_.”

Alex let out a laugh of incredulity and relief. “You weren’t sure? Your saving Magnus and Eir was an _ experiment_?”

He shrugged, and Alex grinned, clapping him on the back and standing. “Come on,” he said once Hearthstone had risen as well. “Let’s go cure an idiot.”

— — — 

Alex was ready to turn into a gorilla and tear the elevator doors off by the time it finally shuddered to a halt on floor nineteen. He burst through them—in human form—and raced toward the door that led to Magnus’ rooms. Before he got there, however, it swung open, and T.J. stood there in front of him.

Alex skidded to a halt. “T.J., what—?”

He looked tense, frightened. That gave Alex pause. This was the boy who was always fearless, who’d faced enemy after enemy since the American Civil War with almost foolhardy courage. But now…

“Alex,” he murmured.

“Is Magnus—?” But he couldn’t finish the question, and so he shoved past T.J. and into the room beyond. Mallory and Halfborn were nowhere to be seen, and Alex didn’t bother to seek them out. He strode directly into the bedroom, T.J., Hearthstone, Samirah, and Eir following close behind.

The other two einherjar were there: Mallory was wiping a cloth across Magnus’ face, her hair even wilder than usual, as if she had been repeatedly dragging her fingers through it in worry. Halfborn was pacing up and down the length of the room, uncharacteristically silent.

In the bed, Magnus thrashed and cried out. But his movements were weak, his voice hoarse. He was still slick with sweat. When Alex perched on the bed next to him and took his face in his hands, he found his skin to be burning.

“Magnus,” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”

Magnus didn’t respond. His eyes darted back and forth under his lids, which alarmed Alex. Whatever he was dreaming — again — couldn’t be good. He mumbled, but his distressed words were too quiet to understand.

“We can’t get him to wake up,” Mallory said, surrendering the cloth to Alex, who took over trying to cool him down. “He was screaming earlier. He’s calmed down now, but…” She shook her head, and Halfborn moved to place a hand on her shoulder. “I think it’s because he’s getting weaker.”

“Eir,” Alex choked and twisted around. “Please. Can you…?”

She approached with a light, reticent step. Samirah had explained to her what Hel had done, and it seemed the Valkyrie had no memory of any of it. She leaned over Magnus, her hand hovering inches from his inflamed skin.

“I will need privacy,” she announced. Her voice was still gentle, but Alex detected a glimmer of the same flame Samirah had in her eyes. The strength of a Valkyrie kindled in the hour of a hero’s need.

Samirah leapt into action without hesitation, ushering the hallmates out of the room. Alex hesitated, as did Hearthstone.

“_May I help you?_” Hearthstone asked hopefully. When Eir didn’t respond immediately, his expression fell. His next signs seemed to come and go in a blink, but Alex thought he knew them nonetheless: “ _ Please. He’s my brother_.”

Eir smiled then. “Yes, thank you.”

“Can I stay…?” Alex had Magnus’ hands in his and was loath to let them go. Especially with Magnus incoherent and trapped in nightmares like this.

Eir shook her head. “It will best if you go, I think. This won’t be pretty. Hel’s poison is… violent. The treatment will be taxing.”

“But…”

“_Go_,” Hearthstone cut in, meeting and holding Alex’s gaze. “_I will take care of him_.”

Alex exhaled slowly, looking back down at Magnus. He squeezed his hands. “You better be okay, Chase. Consider yourself warned.”

He left, trying—and failing—to calm his pounding heart.

— — — 

“Alex, you’re going to wear out a path if you keep that up,” Mallory pointed out later.

Alex ignored her and continued pacing. The others had all sprawled on Magnus’ sofa or on the grassy patch in the atrium, where Alex had been pacing in circles ever since Hearthstone had shut the door, closing himself and Eir away.

No noises had emitted from the room that entire time. Alex, who couldn’t stop himself from replaying Eir’s voice saying _ the treatment will be taxing _ every few seconds, was surprised. He had been imagining horrors: flashes of light, banging noises, Magnus screaming…

In the terrifying silence, he wasn’t sure which was the worse option.

Above, the opening of the atrium revealed a lightening sky, the blackness of night transforming into a grayish tint. And the longer they waited, the lighter it became: Alex watched streaks of light gold, pink, and orange grow more intense. He’d never hated a sunrise before, but now…

Sunrises didn’t belong in a world where Magnus Chase, son of the god of summer and warmth, might not be around to see them.

He ripped his gaze from the skylight and glanced at his friends. Mallory had turned from Alex and leaned on Halfborn’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, gazing moodily into the unlit fireplace as if it had been responsible for Magnus’ illness. T.J. cleaned his bayonet for what had to be the sixth time. Samirah looked ready to start climbing the walls, though the only outward sign of her anxiety was her bouncing foot and tense, unseeing stare.

At first, they’d all tried to converse, about anything and everything, but eventually, worry for their friend had caused the discussion to taper off. Everyone seemed to be listening as hard as they could for any sound from the bedroom, any sign of how the magic was going, if it would be successful or if they had been too late.

Yet somehow, the sound of the door opening after two hours still made them all jump in unison. Alex whirled, and the others leapt to their feet.

Hearthstone stood there, regarding them all. He’d divested himself of his usual leather jacket and scarf, looking oddly bare without them. But despite that, and the heightened color in his cheeks, he smiled.

“_He’s awake_,” he announced, “_but tired_.”

“Let me see him.” Alex started forward, as did Samirah.

Hearthstone eyed both of them, then nodded at Alex. “_Probably just one of you, for now_.”

Alex thought he saw Samirah leaving the room, but couldn’t bring himself to care as he darted forward into the room. Wherever she was going, it didn’t matter to Alex. All that mattered was making sure the son of Frey was still in one piece.

Inside the room, Eir’s posture screamed exhaustion, but she smiled at Alex as she moved past him toward the main room. Alex gave her a grateful nod, though his gaze was fixed on the bed.

“Hey, Fierro.” Magnus’ eyes were brighter and clearer than last Alex had seen them. His cheeks were no longer flushed, instead glowing with their usual midsummer-healthy tint. He looked tired, but more coherent and alert now.

Alex stepped forward, climbed onto the bed, and crossed his legs. “Hey, Chase.”

Magnus smiled when Alex took his hand. “Did Hearth tell you what happened?” Alex asked.

“Yeah. _ Hella _ crazy, right?” Magnus laughed weakly.

Alex, in the midst of handing him a cup of water, debated throwing it in his face instead. “You’re a comic genius. Now, please shut up.”

“Come on, I thought that was a good one!”

“Because you’re a dork.” Alex settled on giving him the water, feeling a little rueful about his mercy. “You must be feeling okay if you’re making lame jokes.”

“Yeah, much better. Still kind of achy, but at least my brain isn’t trying to pound out of my skull and my organs aren’t being sauteed anymore.” He gulped down half the water before coming back up for air. “Where are the others?”

“We weren’t sure you’d be up to a big crowd yet. Hearth thought it would be best to just send in one at a time, for now.”

Magnus’ lips twitched. “Aww, did you volunteer to be first?”

Alex leaned back, feigning affront. “What? No, of course not. They all voted and shoved me in here. I had nothing to do with this decision.”

Magnus just squeezed Alex’s fingers. “Oh, of course,” he smirked. “My bad.”

“Yeah, it is,” Alex said, trying not to smile back.

“I really am feeling okay now, I think,” Magnus continued. “Are the others out there? They can come in if they want. I’m sure they were worried.”

“Okay.” Alex didn’t bother getting up, just turned and called out. “Hey, guys! Maggie says you can come in!”

Within seconds, the others entered, laden with gifts: an obnoxious bouquet of flowers, a balloon with the words “Get Well!” in large cursive letters, and a teddy bear the size of Mallory Keen. A chorus of relieved greetings accompanied these presents, as well as hugs.

When they’d all settled back down, Magnus looked around in bemusement. “Where did you get these?”

“I… might have flown off to get some from a hospital gift shop,” Samirah admitted. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”

“That was fast,” Alex commented, impressed. “But you had to go for the most cliché get well gifts in the world, sis?”

“Hey, the bear was my idea,” Halfborn said, sounding proud and a bit put-out his thoughtfulness was not appreciated.

“And I had about three minutes to get all this,” Samirah protested. “What did you expect, Alex? A personalized bumper sticker saying ‘I survived Hel’ and a stuffed Fenris Wolf or something?”

“Yeah, I’ll pass on the stuffed wolf. This stuff is great,” Magnus grinned, squeezing Alex’s hand to silence his retort. “It’s all great. Thank you, guys.”

As he said that last sentence, though, his eyes were on Alex alone. And this time, Alex couldn’t help beaming back.

— — — 

Two days passed before Magnus felt able to be up and about again. The first full day after the healing, he’d slept on and off, only waking to eat falafel and soup like a starving man. Alex had closely monitored his temperature and liquid intake, as had Hearthstone. Eir herself had popped in every hour or so, torn between what Alex assumed to be her usual gentle bedside manner and guilty hovering. Her concern didn’t bother Alex, though. Without her, he didn’t want to consider what would have happened.

The second day, when Magnus had awoken in the wee hours to find Alex asleep at his bedside, he’d ordered the child of Loki out.

“But—”

“You need to sleep in an actual bed,” Magnus had insisted. “No offense, but you look awful.”

“You’re such a charmer.”

“I’m serious, Alex.” He’d kissed the back of Alex’s hand then. “I’m fine. Go take care of yourself for a while. Hearth’s around, and I’m sure Eir will be back in a bit. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“It _ is _ morning,” Alex had tried.

Magnus hadn’t been having it, though. “Fine, see you at a more reasonable hour. After breakfast, okay? Take care of yourself until after breakfast, and then you can come back.”

Grumbling, Alex had returned to his own rooms and proceeded to sleep for nearly six hours. When he’d awoken, adrenaline jolting him to standing before he remembered that Magnus was okay. Relieved, he’d taken a shower and wandered out to lounge nineteen, feeling refreshed.

T.J., Mallory, and Halfborn were already there, lingering over their own food, as were several other floor nineteen-ers. They hailed Alex and his heaped plate, and Alex felt intensely grateful for his friends’ familiar banter. He felt as if, until the last few hours, he hadn’t been able to relax. It seemed Magnus had been right about Alex needing a bit of time to take care of himself. Not that Alex would admit that to anyone, let alone to Magnus.

Alex was halfway through his towering, syrupy plate of bacon, waffles, and sausages when movement by the door distracted him. Magnus stood there, Hearthstone alongside him. A chorus of greetings came from all around, their table in particular. Alex just stared. Magnus still moved a little slower than usual, but other than that, he seemed almost back to normal.

“Hey,” he greeted a minute later, sitting down with Hearthstone, both with their own breakfasts.

“He lives!” Halfborn boomed, clapping him on the back. “How are you, Chase?”

“Pretty much normal,” Magnus said around a mouthful of eggs.

“Good,” Mallory nodded. “Do you think you’ll be up for the battle today?”

His eyes widened a fraction. “Uh, it’s Thursday. I don’t think I’m up for dragons, thanks.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” As if dragons weren’t the most terrifying part of the week. T.J. caught Alex’s eye and rolled his eyes, obviously thinking the same thing. Alex smiled back, then shifted his attention to Magnus.

“Decided to rejoin the realm of the not-quite living, have you? I’d have milked it for a little longer, personally.” Alex affected a tone full of bravado. “I mean, you were almost murdered by a crazy goddess. I’d have lazed around for, like, a week at least.”

Magnus just smirked. “Come on, Alex. Drop the act. How worried were you, really?”

“Worried?” Alex scoffed. “I wasn’t worried. If anything, it was nice you’ve been sleeping so much. It’s given me a break from your voice.”

Magnus only continued smirking, and he took Alex’s hand in his. “Sorry I scared you, Fierro,” he murmured.

Alex glanced around, ensured the others were wrapped up in their conversation, then sagged against Magnus. “Don’t you dare let it happen again, you dork, okay? Otherwise, I’ll have to march down to Helheim and drag you back myself, and that sounds like a hassle.”

Magnus’ arm wrapped around Alex. “I’ll keep that in mind. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Good,” Alex muttered. He sat back and regarded Magnus, who didn’t seem to want to let go yet.

“You still look kind of… drained,” Magnus observed. Then, that stupid smile of his spread across his face. “Want me to kiss it better? That’s probably the cure.”

“Oh, shut up,” Alex rolled his eyes.

But when Magnus pressed their lips together, Alex didn’t push him away.


End file.
